


not alone

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anger, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Crest Experiment Ashe, Crest Experiment Dedue, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Loss of Control, Memory Loss, POV Alternating, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Re-upload, Tragedy of Duscur (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29116863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: If you're not the one in control, then who is?Ashe never asked for a Crest.Dedue has kept his own secret for years.They're not alone.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert & Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9
Collections: Anonymous





	not alone

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so quick storytime:  
> I've posted this before, under a different title (Raging Control).And I hated it. So, I took it down.  
> I really looked at it, found what I didn't like, changed it, edited it, rearranged it. Found lots of mistakes and fixed them.  
> And now, I'm okay with the result.  
> If you read it before and liked it, thank you!! You are the reason I decided to try again. 
> 
> Thank you if you're reading for the first time or again!

_Finally, after moons of being in that dark place, the mages declared Ashe a success. A success at what, he didn’t yet know. A single mage brought him and his siblings to an unfamiliar forest, pines tilted high to the sky, the ground thick with moss and fog. The magic the mage used to transport them made Ashe nauseous._

_With nothing but vague directions to the next town, the mage turned to leave, but stopped._

_“Remember to take care of those side-effects, little one,” he warned before disappearing completely._

_Aiden already at Ashe’s side, showering Ashe with healing magic, frowned. “Your hair is white.” Why was he concerned by Ashe’s hair color when they had just been abandoned out here by the mages?_

_“So is yours,” answered Ashe as he staggered to his feet. Ashe and his twin younger siblings had taken after their mother, their hair silver and their eyes a vivid green._

_“No, like, really, really white. Like. Snow.”_

_Ashe blinked. “Snow?” Exhaustion clung to his eyelids, dragging them down, but he blinked them back open. Hair doesn’t just change color. That doesn’t make sense._

_Abbie whimpered. “What did they do to you?”_

_Ashe shook his head. The memories were still too fresh. He wished he could shake them out of his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He looked to the sky, saw the sinking sun. This late in the season, the weather was bearable during the day, but became cold during the night. They would need to find shelter, soon._

_He wondered what happened to the shelter they had made, back home, after their parents’ house was taken from them._

_It had been several moons since Ashe had started taking care of Abbie and Aiden all on his own. The only reason he had gone so readily with the mages in the first place was to protect his younger siblings._

_Abbie and Aiden were watching him with wide eyes. They needed him to focus, to protect them even now. Whatever the mages did to him, he could only hope it would help._

_And no matter what the mages said, Ashe would never let them harm his siblings._

_Ashe looked in the direction the mage had pointed out to them. In the distance, he thought he could see a town._

_“Com’on,” Ashe said, taking their hands into each of his own, “we need to keep moving forward.”_

_\----_

_It was dark by the time they arrived in the town. It was much bigger than the small village they had grown up in. A castle loomed in the distance, overlooking the homes and business below it, closed for the evening. Castle Gaspard, Ashe thought, was a lot less imposing than he had imagined it from the way his parents described it after their occasional trips to this town. He knew vaguely where he and his siblings were from their parents’ stories, but they had never brought Ashe along, deeming him too young._

_When Ashe turned ten, they told him, his father would bring him on his first trip._

_Now, just a few weeks after his tenth birthday, he was finally here, but without his father._

_The streetlights, flickering with warm fire, were just enough to see by. They made a shelter, some crates and boxes down an alleyway that they stacked and rearranged in order to block out the cold. Ashe ‘borrowed’ some blankets from the surrounding houses, sneaking as quietly as he could through unwatched gardens and unlatched windows._

_Stealing was how they had survived before the mages found them. The thought crossed his mind that being discovered by the mages was his penance from the Goddess. His punishment for thievery._

_It didn’t matter. It was to protect his siblings. He lived and suffered for them._

_“We can’t steal again,” reprimanded Aiden through chattering teeth even as Ashe wrapped him in a blanket. “It’s wrong, the Goddess says…”_

_“We don’t have to,” Ashe said, “I’ll do it. You and Abbie stay hidden and out of sight while I’m gone.” The Goddess would just have to not care what Ashe did. She could punish him again as long as they were left out of it. His siblings needed to eat, and he was going to make sure they did, whether She helped or not._

_Abbie grabbed his hand as he turned to leave, “Stay safe, Ashe.” She curled up with Aiden under their blankets, clutching each other tightly. If they had each other, they would be okay._

_\---_

_Ashe had successfully swiped a loaf of bread and some cheese, safely tucked into a pouch he wore around his waist. Guilt twisted in his chest along with the joy of success. What if the people he had stolen from had really needed this food? He had left plenty behind._

_“Hey, kid!” An angry shout followed him from where he had just come from. A man, a guard, was running after him. “Thief!”_

_Ashe bolted, running towards his siblings’ hiding place. He slid as he made the turn down the alley._

_They peeked out from their pile of boxes, watching him warily._

_“We have to go—” he started but was cut off by something striking him in the back of the head. He tried to turn, but another object sailed across his cheek, leaving a streak of pain._

_The man who had been chasing them was leaning down to pick up another rock, “You stupid brats.”_

_Abbie screamed as she charged the man. With all the force she could muster, she headbutt the man, forcing him to lose his breath. He recovered too quickly for her to step away, and caught her by her hair, pulling. Both Ashe and Aiden cried out._

_“Put her down!” Aiden shouted._

_Ashe isn’t sure what the man said, if anything. Something in Ashe snapped. His entire body was on fire, an anger like he had never felt before burning through him. He curled his palms inward, cutting himself on his nails. The pain barely registered. He couldn’t see anything but the man and his hands on his sister. Abbie struggled harder, cried louder._

_Ashe couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. Anger, hate, rage pulsed through his veins._

_He charged at the man, throwing all the weight of his small body at him. The man let out a crushing gasp as Ashe slammed into him. There was a flash of blue light at the contact, and the man went flying, skidding across the ground._

_A hand landed on Ashe’s shoulder and he spun to meet the eyes of his sister. The only sound was Ashe’s ragged, pained breathing. He couldn’t catch his breath. Warmth spilled down his face, from his eyes._

_Abbie gathered herself first. “We need to leave,” she said, “before someone comes.”_

_Aiden, meanwhile, had darted out and was checking on the man. He waved weak healing magic over him. “I think he’s okay…Ashe, that was a Crest,” Aiden whispered, “We can’t have Crests, we’re not—”_

_“Later,” Abbie interrupted. She went back and grabbed their blankets, handing some to Aiden to carry as they started moving, trying to find a new place to hide for the evening._

_“There,” Ashe said, pointing to a market stall. It was covered and kept them well hidden. As long as they got away before the owner arrived in the morning, they would be fine. They set up, his siblings’ questioning eyes on him._

_He couldn’t talk about what happened. Not yet._

_He sat his siblings down and opened his pouch for the food, but he could only stare at it. Knowing what he was doing, knowing that he was just starting the cycle again, that there would be more anger, more danger. A Crest. What if he hurt someone?_

_He flinched when Aiden took the pouch from him, cut up the bread, and gave it to his siblings. The twins ate quietly and quickly and dozed off, exhausted by the night’s events._

_Ashe stayed up to watch over them. The bread sat like stone in his stomach._

_This wasn’t enough of a life for them._

_He needed to do something bigger._

_He turned his eyes to the castle._

_\----_ \----

Garreg Mach Monastery was nothing if not impressive and intimidating. Ashe wasn’t sure which was the more prominent trait.

Old, stone buildings, scaling ivy, beautiful stained glass. The monastery had an air of holiness in every crease and crevice. Monks and nuns and other clergy constantly scampered about, knights in full armor patrolled the perimeter. Other students strolled casually, taking in the sights of their new home.

It was strange that, by now at sixteen years old, Ashe was considered a noble himself. But it never felt like it despite his upbringing by Lonato. Something within him would never aspire to true nobility, nor did he particularly want to be a noble. The nobility had its benefits, but Ashe felt he could do just as much good as himself as he could as a noble.

Thankfully, this was also his saving grace when he applied to the school. As a common-born student, he wasn’t required to test for a Crest, therefore able to avoid registering his Crest with the Church.

The secret was safe for now.

Just before departure, Lonato took him to a church in the dead of night, only a single clergyman there to greet them. The test was conducted in secret, and Ashe learned finally what he bore: a minor Crest of Fraldarius. No wonder his attacks became so much stronger— the Crest of Fraldarius was known for the strength it gave its bearers.

He would have to be extremely cautious.

He joined the Blue Lions, the class for those from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. The Prince of Faerghus himself, Prince Dimitri led the Blue Lions. In the first few days, as Ashe got to know the class, he could come to one conclusion. The Lions were an interesting bunch, to say the least.

Felix, always scowling, hardly the picture of politeness other nobles held. Sylvain, looser and freer than any noble he had ever met. Ingrid, a fellow dreamer of knighthood, devout and loyal. Annette, sweet, clumsy, and sharper with her magic than any blade. Mercedes, airheaded, but true and a sincere follower of the faith.

He couldn’t help but to stare at Felix for just a moment too long when they met. A Fraldarius would certainly be able to identify Ashe’s Crest and find it suspicious. Extra caution would be needed around him.

Each of his classmates were noble in some way, each with familiar bonds to some of the others. For the very first day, Ashe felt completely alone, and yearned for his younger siblings.

There was no going back now. Nor did he want to, no matter how much he missed his siblings. He had a new goal. He didn’t feel like it yet, but he would belong here, no matter how hard he had to work for it.

There was, however, one more student in his class who stood out, a not-quite commoner like him. Dedue, from Duscur. Stoic and of few words.

After a few days of knowing Dedue, that’s all Ashe could come to understand. That, and his ties to Dimitri as his… friend? Or his vassal? Though Dedue claimed to be the vassal of Dimitri, Dimitri seemed to be opposed to the title. Ashe wasn’t sure how to see him.

Stranger still was how drawn Ashe found himself to Dedue, his eyes on the quiet boy more often than he’d like.

Something about Dedue felt entirely… familiar.

\----

_Stealing from Lord Lonato was Ashe’s best chance to ensure he and his siblings wouldn’t starve this winter._

_The chill in the air was becoming sharper and colder as the winter began to roll in. Ashe snuck through the shadowed gardens of Castle Gaspard, staying away from any light, avoiding stepping on the scant dead leaves that lay on ground._

_Rumors abound that this noble didn’t keep the castle well-protected. Lord Lonato was liked enough by his people that rebellion or an attack was hardly a concern for him. He kept just enough guards to watch the perimeter and just enough staff to take basic care of his property._

_His trust left him vulnerable to thieves._

_His loss, Ashe’s gain._

_Ashe finally found his in, a window, cracked open to allow in the cool night air._

_He hesitated. He could still turn back, find somewhere else to try and get food. But, no, the night was cool, but it would only grow colder as winter approached. Food would become even more scarce. No one would take on a ten-year-old right now, not one as small and useless as Ashe._

_Footsteps. Ashe pushed himself against the wall, crouching as a guard neared the corner. His heart raced; his chest tightened. Closer, closer. If the guard took another step forward, Ashe would be caught. He held his breath, waiting for the moment the guard saw him, locked him up. He would be trapped, held prisoner again. Aiden and Abbie would be all alone—_

_The footsteps stopped and faded away as the guard turned, seeing nothing. Ashe let out the breath he was holding. The tightness in his chest didn’t go away, but he needed to keep going._

_A great haul awaited him, one that would keep his siblings and himself fed for a while, if only he could pull this off._

_Ashe pulled himself up and through the window, pushing forward through his doubts. Enough nobles had turned their noses up at him when he petitioned for help, or work, or even just a scrap of food to give his siblings. He had experienced their scorn enough to have had little remorse for falling into thievery once he recovered from the mages’ experiments._

_He stumbled with the thought of the memory he tried so hard to push down. He couldn’t falter now. Yet, he felt the cold panic claw its way from the pit of his stomach, scratching and tearing at his chest—_

_He heard someone coming down the hallway, and recklessly flung himself into the room to his right, closing the door as quickly and quietly as he could behind him, again holding his breath. The steps passed. He waited, trying to calm himself, but his heart wouldn’t stop pounding._

_Ashe turned to look around the room to distract himself until he could continue._

_It was small and cozy. Not a full library, but there were a couple of tall shelves stocked with books and a few small decorations. Plush, red chairs circled the fireplace. The fire was lit, light flickering across the room, creating dancing shadows. High windows let in bright moonlight. While he tried to get his emotions under control, he thought that it wouldn’t hurt to check the shelves for any valuables._

_On the third highest shelf of a bookcase, just barely within his reach, was a small, gold box. The lid was lined with red stones and intricately laced with metal inlays. It would fetch a price of some kind or, if for nothing else, material to melt into a weapon. He stuffed it in his bag while his eyes continued skimming the shelf._

_The deep blue cover of a book caught his eye, and he pulled it from its place. Large and heavy, he recognized the cover immediately. His heart clenched painfully._

_A story of Loog. A story his father had read Ashe many times to put him to sleep. A story Ashe’s mother had often quoted to scold him when he misbehaved. He tried skimming some of the pages but could only recognize a few scant words._

_His chest was burning with a familiar pain. The memory of the soldiers flashed across his mind as his vision began fogging._

_He knew he was losing control again, just like before, but he couldn’t stop remembering his parents, the joy of helping them in the kitchen, the hugs and kisses he got each morning and each evening._

_The priest baring the news. The tears. The loneliness. His siblings looking at him with their innocent, terrified eyes._

_Hunger. Being chased by soldiers and guards._

_The burden weighing on his shoulders and his alone. The mages. Water, dripping from the ceiling onto the freezing stone floor where they slept._

_The experiments. Phantom pains in his chest._

_Being abandoned again._

_The pressure in his chest shattered, and with all his strength, Ashe threw the book at the wall. A flash of blue light illuminated the small room as his ill-gotten Crest activated. The binding of the book split apart as the book slammed against the wall, sending book pages fluttering to the floor around him._

_His chest felt light and empty, the pounding of his heart finally slowing. His legs failed him as he crumpled to a ball, huddling against the wall. The tears began flowing, and he tried to silence his sniffles, but they were still so loud._

_“Well, now, when I thought I heard a thief, this is not what I expected to find.”_

_Ashe’s head snapped up as his hand went to his dagger, blindly pointing it in the direction of the voice. An older man, hair greying, but eyes not unkind, was staring at him from the open door. Ashe hadn’t heard it opening. “You’re just a boy. A boy thief. With a Cre—"_

_“Shut-up!” Ashe shouted as he scrambled to his feet, “I’ll fight you; I swear!” He nearly winced at his own frail words, knowing that his voice was still small and high. He could hear the wavering in it from his crying._

_The man’s brows shot up as he answered, “You broke into my home, destroyed a priceless copy of my book, and now you’re threatening me?” His eyes darted to Ashe’s bag, “And what did you take?”_

_The gears in Ashe’s brain struggled to move as he processed the words. “Y-you’re Lord Lonato?”_

_The man gave a curt nod, and Ashe gulped. There was no getting out of this. The windows were far too high for him to scramble to, and Lord Lonato blocked the door. Even if Ashe made it out, and past the guards, Lord Lonato now knew his secret. Ashe would be pursued and easily found._

_“…please,” Ashe said, dropping his knife on the ground. The clatter made Lord Lonato tense, but he didn’t make a move towards Ashe. “You have to let me go.”_

_“I do now, do I?”_

_Ashe nodded, dropped his voice, trying to sound weak, unthreatening, “my brother and sister are waiting for me. I’m all they have. They’re all I have.”_

_“Hmm.” Lord Lonato crossed his arms as he watched Ashe with a severe gaze._

_“Please, sir. I’m sorry I tried to steal from you.” He took the gold box from his pouch and offered it back to its owner. “Please, please just forget you saw me!”_

_Lonato took the box without taking his eyes off Ashe. Ashe wondered if the noble’s next move would be to grab him or call his guards. Lonato opened his mouth and Ashe braced for the shout._

_“Why did you choose that book in particular?”_

_“Huh?” Ashe wasn’t expecting a question, and not that one of all things._

_Lonato closed the door as he stepped around Ashe to retrieve the fallen book cover, leaving Ashe with means of escape should he run fast enough… but the question kept him rooted to the spot from sheer curiosity. “I truly love this story, and I’m terribly sorry to see it reduced to such a state. Tell me, why is this the one that caught your eye?”_

_Ashe dropped his gaze to the floor. “My parents used to read it to me, when I was a child.”_

_“You still are a child, are you not?”_

_Ashe shook his head. “I can’t be. It’s only me and my younger siblings and they can’t take care of themselves. Only adults can take care of children, so I have to be the adult now.”_

_Lord Lonato’s mouth grew thin, but his eyes grew softer. “I see. So, why did you come here?”_

_“There’s nowhere for us to go or get money, so I steal,” Ashe explained, the story rolling off his tongue with far more ease than he liked. “I normally only steal food, but… we needed more, for the coming winter.”_

_“No one in your House will take you? An heir with a Crest?” Lonato asked, his voice soft and low. He sounded like Ashe’s parents always had after Ashe cried or hurt himself. Ashe couldn’t understand why, nor did he understand the question._

_“A house? Heir?”_

_“You are a noble family’s child, are you not?”_

_Ashe couldn’t bite back the gasp of surprise that erupted from him and flushed from embarrassment. “No, my parents had a restaurant and when they… when they died, there was no one else. We couldn’t get any food or things anymore because we didn’t have money. No one would give me work because I’m too small still, and we had nowhere to go.”_

_Lord Lonato listened patiently to Ashe and waited a few seconds once Ashe quieted before asking, “A commoner, then. And your Crest?”_

_Ashe bit his bottom lip, “It’s a secret. I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”_

_“Who told you that?” Lonato’s brow furrowed, and that angry look was back, but he didn’t come closer to Ashe, didn’t shout._

_“I…I can’t say.” Ashe felt frustrated tears building again._

_Lonato’s frown deepened and Ashe knew he was in deep trouble now. Lonato would call for his guards any moment now. He took a step back, getting ready to flee._

_“I want to help you.”_

_Ashe whipped his head up, freeing the tears to roll down his cheeks. “What?”_

_Lonato took two long strides and knelt in front of Ashe, looking him straight in the eye. He hesitantly raised his arms towards Ashe, and while Ashe took a step away, he didn’t run. Lonato gently laid his hands onto Ashe’s shoulders. Ashe realized he had been shaking as Lonato’s grip steadied him._

_“I can tell you’re special, Crest or no Crest. You have a big heart. And you’re incredibly brave. You have the soul of a knight, just like Loog, and just like my son,” Lonato said with a growing smile, “Would you care to live here as my son, too? Along with your siblings, of course. We could be a family.”_

_Ashe couldn’t move his mouth willingly. The words scrambled and fought. He wanted to say yes, but instead, his worries slipped out. “But, the mages said—" He clamped his hands over his mouth to stop anymore words from spilling out. “Oh no, I shouldn’t have told you that.”_

_Lonato’s angry furrow returned, “As long as you live under my roof, in this castle, you and your siblings will remain under my protection and I shall not allow any harm to befall you.” He smiled gently again, “So, what say you?”_

_Ashe began crying in earnest, trying in vain to wipe away the falling tears as he nodded. Lonato took him into his arms, an embrace from a parent that Ashe hadn’t felt in far too long._

_“My name is Ashe,” he said in between shaking sobs._

_“And I’m Lonato. It’s very nice to meet you, Ashe._

\---

On the fourth night since their arrival to the monastery, the class was having dinner together at the bequest of His Highness. Ashe sat at the end, trying to maintain his uncomfortable smile. His classmates all spoke to each other with familiarity and on common ground. Ashe was left behind or clueless when topics such as current politics and Fhirdiad gossip came up.

He was not at all ready to have been thrust into this world, despite the classes and upbringing by Lonato. For the thousandth time, he was in awe that he had ended up here.

“Ashe?” Mercedes’s voice cut through his thoughts. He glanced at her, a look on her face that suggested she was awaiting an answer. All eyes were on him, and he hadn’t even noticed.

He felt his face heat up but willed the blush to abate, “I’m sorry, I uh, zoned out for a minute there.”

She giggled, “That’s okay. I was just asking about you. Do you have any hobbies?”

Ashe hadn’t really offered up much information about himself yet, not confident that he should. He didn’t think there was anything interesting about him besides the Crest. That wasn’t him, anyway. It wasn’t.

It wasn’t.

But besides the Crest, he had nothing in common with these people. He really didn’t belong here.

 _Stop that_ , he chided himself.

“Um, cooking. Gardening. Reading, too,” he finally answered. That was an okay answer, right? He tried fighting the blush down, but from Mercedes’s softening smile, he didn’t think he was very successful.

Ingrid leaned forward, “Reading? What kind of stories?”

“Um, Knights, especially Loog—”

“I _love_ tales of chivalry—"

The conversation was immediately taken over by Ashe and Ingrid then, recounting all the tales that had read across the table, despite the distance. Ashe thought they could have gone on for hours until Felix finally ended it. He rolled his eyes and groaned, standing.

“Okay, that’s about all I can take of this drivel, I’m going to go train. Boar, with me.” Dimitri’s brows shot up, and he clumsily got up from the table and followed Felix. Dedue went to stand, as well, but Sylvain laid a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

“Nah, let them go. Relax, Dedue.” He took a bite of his food, “talk to us some. Get to know your classmates.”

“I have nothing to say,” Dedue said quietly. 

Mercedes pouted. “Surely you do! Tell us your hobbies, as well.”

Dedue looked across the table, not making eye contact with any of them in particular, but still, Ashe felt like he was the one being spoken to. “I… too, enjoy cooking and gardening.”

Ashe perked up. Was this his chance for a friend? Dedue was the one he had the most in common with so maybe, just maybe…

“We should cook together sometime! I’d love to learn from you. And we can work together in the greenhouse!” Ashe offered brightly, smiling at Dedue.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t bode well for you if you were to be seen with me,” Dedue said as he stood again, gathering his and Dimitri’s dishes to return to the kitchen. “If you’ll excuse me…”

He left, and Sylvain groaned. “He’s always been like that, since we met a few years ago. I try and try and talk to him. He’s a good guy.”

Ashe watched Dedue as he left, curious. Vicious rumors circled Faerghus about those from Duscur. Of course, Ashe knew about the Tragedy, but to blame it on _every_ Duscur person…

Even more so, Ashe had his sincerest doubts that Duscur had anything to do with it.

Christophe was gone and with him real answers, and Ashe was here instead.

That settled it. Ashe and Dedue would be friends. Or else, Ashe would try, and hope Dedue was receptive to the notion.

If he wasn’t, Ashe would drop it and leave Dedue alone. But if he was…

Ashe would have successfully made a new friend, and that alone was worth trying.

\----

_The first of the many things Ashe and his siblings was taught by Lonato was how to read, starting with the very book that had brought them together, the same one he had broken with the power of his Crest._

Worry not _, Lonato had told him,_ almost anything can be repaired if only given time, patience, and care.

_“Ashe?” came Christophe’s voice one late evening, a few moons into their stay. The winter had come and gone with the Ubert siblings safely tucked inside Castle Gaspard, but the library where Ashe holed up to work was still chilled without a fire._

_Ashe appreciated the warm blanket that was draped around his shoulders as Christophe peered over his head, looking at what Ashe was studying._

_“You silly boy, you’re still working? It’s late. You should have been in bed by now.”_

_“I know, but…” Ashe said, trying to keep his focus on the page despite the new distraction, but the words were running together. He isn’t even sure what he had been studying anymore. History? Math? Tactics? It was all the same— he couldn’t understand any of it._

_“Do you need help?” Christophe asked. Ashe turned to glare at him. He knows by now Ashe wants to do this on his own as much as possible!_

_“I can do it, Christophe. I just need time. You… Lonato, everyone here is already helping us so much. I can do this on my own!” His voice rose louder than he had wished. His chest felt tight, and he took a deep breath._

_Christophe chuckled and ruffled Ashe’s hair. “You sure do get worked up easily. Ashe, there’s nothing wrong with accepting help when you need it. Sure, Father took you in, but that’s nothing to feel guilt over. He’s just a good person, and we care for you.”_

_The tightness in his chest abated as Ashe listened, felt the touch of Christophe’s fingers through his hair._

_The chair scraped loudly on the floor as Ashe threw himself from it and into a flying hug, being easily caught and lowered to his feet by Christophe. Ashe was still so small, and Christophe was in training to be a knight! A knight, just like in the stories. Christophe chuckled and wrapped his arms tightly around Ashe in a warm hug. The blanket had miraculously stayed on Ashe’s shoulders, and Christophe tucked it more snuggly around him._

_“Do you think…” Ashe started, his words muffled by his face buried in Christophe’s clothes, “I mean, Aiden and Abbie are training, and I know they’re way ahead of me in studying, but do you think that I could start training with you?”_

_Christophe hummed but otherwise stayed silent for a long moment as he thought. Ashe squeezed him tighter._

_“That might not be a bad idea. Just because studying textbooks is proving difficult for you doesn’t mean you won’t excel at something else. Let me talk to Father about it. But right now, you, little man, need to go to bed.”_

_Christophe easily scooped Ashe up, flinging him over his shoulder and extinguishing the candle with one hand. Ashe gave token complaints, but really, he was glad to be allowed to take a break._

_He was safe, warm, and cared for by his new family. His siblings were flourishing. As long as he kept his secret, life could continue on like this._

_Ashe relaxed._

_He had nothing to fear._

\-----

Dedue headed straight for the greenhouse after their dinner, knowing Dimitri would be in capable hands with Felix. And, to be honest, he wished to avoid Felix as much as possible.

This was a moment he could guiltlessly take for himself. Or, so he had hoped.

He had expected to be alone, this time of night, but the sound of the door opening made him turn quickly. Had someone from his class followed him?

It was Ashe who slipped silently through the cracked door, the white-haired boy who had asked to spend time together. Strange, but harmless, probably. Dedue looked him over. He was much shorter than Dedue, and he wrung his hands nervously.

Still, he smiled brightly at Dedue, eyes holding no trace of scorn or anger. Dedue wondered what Ashe thought he would accomplish by speaking with him. Dedue waited silently for Ashe to say his piece.

Ashe took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for startling you, I just really wanted to talk with you.”

Dedue shook his head. “No, you didn’t startle me.” Even if Ashe had, Dedue had no doubts that the boy meant no harm. Ashe was peculiar, Dedue could see that already. If nothing else but to sate Dedue’s curiosity, it was worth giving Ashe a listen to. He waited as Ashe fidgeted.

“I want to be friends!” Ashe said, turning a full red immediately as the words tumbled from his mouth. “If you want. I want to get to know you.”

Dedue raised a brow. What about him was there to get to know?

Except for the one thing he wouldn’t share, of course.

“You wouldn’t like the rumors that come with being associated with me.” His Highness already fielded so many, and he was royalty. How does Ashe expect to handle it? From what little of Ashe Dedue has seen, he is timid and frail. A wonder he even came to this school.

“Let me decide that for myself,” said Ashe. “Let me at least get a chance to know you.”

And there, in his eyes now lifted to meet Dedue’s, was a fiery look of determination, brows pinched and lips pursed. They were completely different, Dedue and Ashe, from two entirely different worlds. But in that moment, Dedue thought he saw something of himself in this strange boy.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a friend.

Dedue hummed, and took a step back, turning around. “Very well.”

He was glad his back was turned, hiding his quick smile as Ashe cheered.

“What were you doing, anyway?” Ashe asked, moving to stand beside Dedue. He had to crane his neck just a little to look up at Dedue, but he tried.

“I was surveying the garden, deciding where I might plant my flowers,” Dedue answered.

Ashe perked up at that, “You’ll be planting flowers? What kind? I like violets myself. Do you have a favorite flower?”

Dedue blinked for a moment, processing his questions. “Yes. I’ll be planting some seeds I acquired from Duscur. I have permission to grow them, though it did take some persuasion.”

“Why did it take persuasion?”

“I presume it is because they are from Duscur.”

Ashe frowned at that.

“That’s not right. You should be allowed to grow what you wish,” he said, that pouting look crossing his expression again.

A conversation Dedue would rather avoid, especially with a stranger, seemed to be lurking behind those words. Dedue decided to shut it down immediately. “I do not wish to discuss this with you.”

“I’m sorry. I…” Ashe trailed off, “I want to be your friend, so I won’t push any boundaries you set up.”

Dedue turned to face Ashe. “You really wish to become friends?”

Ashe nodded. “Yes! I have a good feeling about you!”

He was staring at Dedue so earnestly, wide green eyes expectant and bright. Harmless, but still. Something was there, lurking just beneath the surface. A spark.

The corners of Dedue’s lips twitched. “A good feeling, you say? I could say the same about you.”

“Great! Glad to have you as a friend, Dedue.” Ashe held out his hand for a handshake, an entirely Fódlan custom that Dedue still didn’t care for. Dedue simply nodded. Ashe awkwardly took his hand back, giving it a swipe through his hair.

Dedue only sighed before going back to his surveying, kneeling next to the patch of soil that would be his. Ashe watched him touch the soil, measure, move around weeds and stones.

After a few moments of his silent hovering, Ashe alighted beside Dedue, asking far too many questions, but never pushing too far, each and every one of which Dedue answered, curtly, but reliably.

Friends.

It was strange to think he had already found a friend here.

\----

_The second year of living with Lonato passed quickly, Ashe’s twelfth birthday coming and going, two years of training with Christophe, getting a noble’s education, and having his new family._

_Ashe felt like something was wrong._

_It had been gnawing at him, and yet he chose to ignore it._

_Minor annoyances got under his skin far more easily than normal, and his reactions far exceeded the triggers. Aiden woke him from a nap to show Ashe a flower that could be distilled for powerful potions. Ashe ripped it from him, crumpling it in his hands. Abbie closed the library door a little too hard, and Ashe reopened it, slamming it again louder, enough to shake the frame. Even Christophe wasn’t spared from Ashe’s fury, as their training sessions became so intense, spurred on by Ashe, that they would consistently leave bruised and sore._

_But each time, he would be brought back to common sense. A touch from Christophe, hugs from his siblings, and he would be fine again. Forgiven far too quickly for what he had felt, feelings he had not yet shared with his family._

_For each horrifying moment, he had felt pure, invariable disgust with his siblings. Almost… almost hatred. A wall that separated him from himself, a divide between being a loving brother and a danger to his own family._

_His chest hurt, a terrible and overwhelming ache. An open maw seeking to consume his new, fragile happiness. He didn’t want to think about it, but every time he ignored it, it reasserted itself, growing day by day._

_The time periods between the episodes varied between weeks and months, but eventually, eventually, it would all boil again._

_Ashe kept himself busy with his training with Christophe and his studies. Both, slowly, were coming easier to him now. He could hit a target from farther and farther away each time he shot his bow. He could finish a book in a few days without struggle._

_Inspired by the stories Lonato had been teaching him to read, he found himself aiming for new heights. Like Christophe, he wanted to train to become a knight._

_But knights didn’t act like he did. Knights were never violently angry. They were just and brave._

_It had to be the Crest. It was still kept secret from all except Lonato, Abbie, Aiden, and Christophe._

_Christophe, however, still didn’t know about the mages. He couldn’t know. Everything was going well. Ashe had to get it together. He just had to—_

_“Ashe, we need to talk about this.” Christophe had just stumbled into the library where Ashe was studying. Trying to, at least, as he flipped far too roughly through the book, tearing the pages as he went. Christophe grabbed his wrist to stop him, and the guilt crept in immediately as Ashe once again was faced with the destruction he had caused._

_“I don’t want to,” Ashe said, tears threatening the corners of his eyes as he tried to blink them away rapidly and stubbornly. Christophe’s expression softened as he let go of Ashe’s wrist to pat his head instead. Soothing Ashe’s white locks down. Christophe frowned, but didn’t glare, didn’t try to even reprimand Ashe. Christophe waited patiently for an answer while he brushed Ashe’s hair gently._

_The gentle contact worked, the fiery rage reducing to an irritating simmer, enough so that Ashe could speak. “I get so mad, sometimes because… of the Crest.”_

_He needed to tell Christophe about the mages. Forget their warnings. Open up to his brother._

_But right now, he didn’t want to. Instead, he threw himself around Christophe. Even after two years, Ashe was still so small compared to Christophe, his head barely reaching Christophe’s chest. He felt Christophe wrap his arms around Ashe, drawing him close. Ever since that night two years ago, Ashe had found himself more and more comforted by his brother’s hugs, always a deterrent to the anger._

_“Okay,” said Christophe, a few moments after Ashe stayed silent, “Okay. We should think about ways for you to deal with this anger before it gets out of hand.”_

_Ashe nodded. Christophe sighed, the relief in it calming to Ashe._

_That calm was broken when Christophe suddenly swooped, scooping Ashe up and over his shoulder in his typical fashion, “Com’on, kid, we’re going to practice your reading for now. But first we gotta find the disaster twins.”_

_Despite being hefted like a sack of potatoes, Ashe couldn’t stop his giggles. “Okay, but you don’t have to carry me!”_

_“Yes, I do! We don’t have time for your little legs to try and catch up to me! The time to read is now!”_

_The twins were found in the kitchens, creating a mess that was left for someone else to deal with. Together, the four siblings curled up together in the same reading room in which Lonato had discovered Ashe those years ago._

_Ashe felt himself dozing against Christophe, Aiden and Abbie having already given up withing the first page. The anger, too, had fallen into a harmless sleep as Ashe was surrounded by his family._

_Lonato’s voice floated in through Ashe’s daze, and Ashe felt a weight settle next to him, Lonato and Christophe’s voices weaving themselves around his dreams._

_No one could harm them._

\----

The Harpstring Moon’s end approached, Ashe’s first moon at the Academy coming to a close. He had managed, somehow, to protect his secret. Only Lonato, Aiden, and Abbie knew.

Besides those who had forced the Crest upon him, that is.

He tried not to use it, and decided to mostly train in secret, in the dead of night, until he could control the power that would occasionally flow out of him unbidden. It had come close in several training sessions, but always he was allowed to quit, citing inexperience and exhaustion, both lies, before it went too far.

Being out at night was unnerving for him at first, but despite his overwhelming fear of ghosts, the fear of being discovered was far greater. He lit a few candles and muttered prayers each night before beginning. Surely the Goddess would have mercy on him now that his punishment had been dealt. He was moving forward on the path of justice.

It was one such night that he was lost in hitting targets. He aimed for the center, but still scattered his arrows scant inches from their target far too many times for him to feel satisfied. He had been training for years now, yet the only thing he could do consistently was fail.

He was growing increasingly frustrated with himself. Despite the power he held, he couldn’t do something so simple. What use was an archer who couldn’t hit their target? And when he did, the arrows did barely any damage.

How easy it would be to give in, to let the power flow and strengthen his strikes? He would be unstoppable. Ashe knew he couldn’t give in.

How a commoner came by the minor Crest of Fraldarius would be far too difficult to lie about… and if the truth came out, his siblings could be in danger.

The memories came again.

And something buried deep within his chest hungered for more.

The pressure, the anger and frustration at himself built and built in his chest. He continued to fight against his power, and fight against his natural shortcomings, and fight against the memories that threw themselves against his skull and into his mind’s eye until he could not control it anymore.

The power exploded from his fingertips and the arrow he let loose cracked against the target so hard that the wood split clean in half, knocking his previous arrows on the ground amongst the splinters of the board. Ashe blinked against the dark spots the unexpected flash of Crest had left dancing in his eyesight.

“Goddess…” he muttered under his breath, half prayer, half curse upon himself for his weakness.

He heard a shuffling behind him, and when he turned around, Dedue was standing in the doorway, staring wide-eyed in shock. The expression on his face was completely unlike the cool countenance Ashe normally saw.

Their friendship had steadily grown over the course of the past few weeks. Dedue still hadn’t said much about himself, yet Ashe was beginning to see more and more of who Dedue was. Kind, gentle, meticulous. When Ashe and Dedue gardened together, and in the few times they had cooked together, Dedue was nothing but steady and composed.

Now, however, Dedue’s eyes were blown wide, and his mouth left gaping. Ashe panicked— Dedue saw.

Dedue knew.

Ashe had to try and cover his mistake.

“Oh Dedue!” Ashe practically squeaked, drawing his bow close to his chest like a plush animal, “what brings you here so late? I’m just trying to squeeze in some extra training. I’m so far behind, and I really need to build some muscle, and I have to keep up with the rest of the class you know!” Ashe blurted out all in nearly one breath. He panted for air after his outburst.

Dedue blankly stared at him for a moment that seemed to stretch out for an eternity.

“Ashe, I wasn’t aware that you possessed a Crest?” Dedue asked. Ashe swallowed, trying to think of a way out of this. He couldn’t think of anything, the words lodging themselves stubbornly in his brain, static keeping them trapped in place. _Dammit_ , _think._ Dedue was waiting patiently for him to speak, but Ashe’s mouth had gone completely dry as he floundered through any possible replies.

A few words finally freed themselves and dove from his tongue, “I guess you saw that, huh?”

 _What. No. Wrong._ He was supposed to have denied it. Panic fortified itself in his head, shaking him down to his fingertips that clumsily dropped his bow. “Dedue, you can’t tell anyone, please—" He felt cold, all the heat from his extremities sluggishly winding itself to the center of his chest. Anger, he realized, had drawn itself from his frustrations. Danger, he was in danger. Dedue was in danger. _Not now, please, don’t make me hurt him—_

Ashe was broken from his thoughts by Dedue taking his hand into his own. Ashe’s hand felt small compared to Dedue’s, but the warmth from Dedue’s calloused fingers soaked through Ashe’s skin, straight to the bone. The pressure in his chest waned as Dedue leaned down so that he was whispering into Ashe’s ear.

“Ashe, listen to me carefully and answer me honestly— were you born with this Crest?” Dedue’s breath danced across Ashe’s ear as he spoke, tickling. He pulled back enough to still be in Ashe’s immediate space but able to look him directly in the eye.

Ashe could only blink owlishly at him. How did Dedue know to ask that?

It dawned on Ashe, the realization nearly painful with it’s obvious intensity.

Dedue couldn’t be— not him, too?

Ashe moved his free hand, the one not being gently warmed by Dedue’s warm grasp, to lightly brush the tips of Dedue’s bundled, white hair. _It looks just like mine_.

He hadn’t thought much of the color before, having never met any other Duscur people – for all he knew, it was a common color outside Fódlan – but now, it seemed glaringly obvious.

Realizing how rude he was being, Ashe dropped his hand quickly.

He shook his head softly, the fringes of his own hair obscuring his vision as he tilted his head downwards. The movement was so soft and small, he was unsure if Dedue even saw it, but Dedue exhaled and squeezed his hand. Dedue stood straighter.

“We should talk somewhere else,” he suggested. He didn’t drop Ashe’s hand.

“Somewhere private, and s-safe,” Ashe stuttered. Was there anywhere safe? Were they safe now? “Let me… just give me a second.”

Dedue nodded one curt nod and let go of Ashe so that he could put away his equipment. He shivered as Dedue’s warmth left him, but the panic had subsided for now along with the growing feeling of danger in his chest.

When he finished, Dedue took his hand again. Ashe sputtered for a moment, turning red.

“This helps you, doesn’t it?” Dedue asked, “it... helps me when I’m... But, if you worry for anyone seeing us together like this…” he trailed off. It was uncharacteristic for Dedue to be so unsure of his words. Yet here he was, stumbling through this as much as Ashe.

Ashe shook his head. “I’m not worried about being seen with you ever, Dedue. I’m proud to be your friend,” Ashe grinned at him, “but if you’re worried, we can say you’re walking me back to our rooms because I’m scared of ghosts.” Which honestly, wasn’t a lie.

Dedue’s smile was small, but genuine, and amused. “Of course, Ashe. I am honored to protect you from the ghosts.”

Ashe ducked his head so that Dedue couldn’t see the blush that he felt blossoming on his face. “T-thank you.” Dedue hummed in reply and they set off.

\---

_The dam broke one day, unexpectedly, while Ashe and Christophe were training._

_An echo of before when Christophe first learned about Ashe’s Crest. A flash of light. A stray arrow. Christophe’s near demise. Christophe tried laughing it off, but Ashe couldn’t see what was so funny._

_This just kept happening again, and again, and again. Ashe felt helpless. He couldn’t control it. He was going to hurt someone he cared about someday, and it will all be his fault._

_Christophe wasn’t mad. He wasn’t hurt. He wasn’t dead. But any of this could change at any time because of Ashe._

_Ashe couldn’t let this keep happening._

_It was time to come clean._

_Christophe took them to his room, where Ashe, pacing, began his story._

_“We had been alone for a few Moons when… I received my Crest. I…” He lost the next words, remembering the pain, the burning, the loss of sleep and the hunger and the feeling of being turned inside out. He felt the anger boiling, the tears building in his eyes._

_“I still don’t know who they were exactly. Just some mages. But…They hurt me. Used me as an experiment because I was just a kid on the street. No one would miss me.” The crying began in earnest then, his face hot. He knew he had to be a terrible sight, face blotchy and eyes red._

_He told Christophe as much detail as he could about the experiments, but he could barely get out the words himself. The memories felt distant yet still all too real._

_He felt arms around him, Christophe pulling him into one of his tight hugs. “Ashe, I swear, I swear, I am going to find whoever hurt you and bring them to justice.”_

_Ashe returned the embrace, burying his face in Christophe’s chest. At some point, Christophe sat them down on the floor, and it was only then that Ashe realized how weak every one of his muscles felt._

_There was a small knock on the door, followed by the sound of the squeaking hinges. Abbie and Aiden, somehow sensing their brother’s distress, alighted to his side, joining the hug._

_Someone ran a hand through Ashe’s hair. Someone rubbed his back as the sobs finally began to die down. In that moment, he felt as if the four siblings had always been together, raised together as family their whole lives._

_It felt normal, complete, and whole._

_\----_

_The next moon, Christophe was found guilty of treason, for his part in the Tragedy, and Ashe never again would cry to him, never again feel his warm hugs._

\----- 

As they crossed the dark monastery grounds, Dedue kept his eyes peeled for anyone moving in the shadows. He also kept an eye on his smaller companion who kept casting a nervous gaze around them. Nervous, but sharp. Thankfully, it was late enough that the only creatures they encountered were the monastery cats.

Dedue took a deep breath, steeling himself for the discussion that was to come. He hadn’t had this talk in years, not since he first went to stay with Dimitri, and before that, his sister.

Dedue unlocked his door before Ashe could even offer his adjacent room.

“Please, come in,” Dedue said as he entered his room. Ashe followed, quietly closing the door behind him. Dedue carefully made his way in the dark of his room to his desk, flicking a lamp and a few candles to life with a gentle brushing of his fingers over the wicks. Ashe gasped.

“You can do magic!” Ashe exclaimed. “Is it because of your Crest?”

Dedue hummed. “It is only because of my Crest—" he stopped, a beat of silence pulsing between them. It was the first time Dedue had directly admitted his truth aloud. It sank in as Ashe waited, watching Dedue carefully. Nothing happened, though he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. The moment passed, and Dedue continued, “I would be unable to do any magic without it.”

Ashe sighed, “I still can’t do any magic with mine.”

He stopped as his own admission rolled over them, the confirmation again that he and Dedue, two people who shouldn’t have these Crests, did in fact bear them, against their will. Or so Dedue assumed of Ashe.

He could feel the fog rolling in again, clouding his eyes. He shook it off as best he could, but still, it lingered at the edges of his mind. He knew it was just the worry causing it. It was easily handled, but still.

Ashe shivered, teeth clattering slightly. Dedue sat on his bed, patting the spot next to him. As Ashe sat, Dedue pulled a spare blanket, richly blue, probably a gift from Dimitri, from behind him, and draped it over Ashe’s shoulders. Ashe immediately cocooned himself in it, reminding Dedue almost of a tiny bread roll. “Thank you. This is so warm.”

“Of course,” Dedue murmured before falling into silence. They both let the quiet coat them and the room, the light from the flames flickering and casting shadows on the floor, the walls. Dedue didn’t know what to say, where to start, and he suspected Ashe was the same. Ashe watched the shadows dance, over the room, and over Dedue. Dedue could see Ashe giving him side glances.

He wondered if Ashe was thinking of the same thing as him, the cell, the cold, damp stone room they had kept him in until they pulled him out to run the tests. It was so many years ago, but the memories hurt. What few memories he had, at least. Maybe it was a blessing, then, that he couldn’t remember more. It had been so lonely—

“When they did it to you,” Ashe started, breaking the silence, “were you alone?” He asked as if he could read Dedue’s thoughts. Ashe immediately slapped a hand over his own mouth as if the words had slipped out unbidden. Dedue’s hands clenched. Ashe moved from his warm nest to touch Dedue’s hand, but Dedue flinched automatically from Ashe, keeping a steady gaze on him.

Something flashed in Ashe’s eyes, a glint of anger, but Ashe blinked, and it was gone.

“Goddess, Dedue, I’m so sorry— I shouldn’t have— that was incredibly inconsiderate of me—" Dedue stared blankly at him, but it was like his gaze was going through him, looking far beyond him. How had something so mild taken him so completely by surprise? “You don’t have to talk about it.” Dedue blinked, his eyes refocusing on Ashe. “Dedue, are you okay? I’m so so—"

“I forgive you, Ashe,” Dedue finally said, “It is rather… difficult to remember.”

“You’ve been through a lot. Too much,” Ashe whispered, not breaking the eye contact between them despite how intense it was beginning to feel. “You deserve so much better.”

“You as well, Ashe,” Dedue replied, voice low. The edge of his hand brushed against Ashe’s, and Ashe hesitantly wrapped a pinkie around Dedue’s. Dedue didn’t recoil this time.

“I was lucky when Lonato adopted me.”

“And I when His Highness saved my life—"

That spark in Ashe’s eye flared to life again and burned through his gaze. “He shouldn’t have even _had_ to!” Ashe moved his hand away from Dedue’s touch, and the fire flared to life, the anger sudden, bursting through his skin. “What happened in Duscur was sick and cruel, he shouldn’t have had to be there because you should’ve been left alone in the first place— your people were innocent—" Ashe clamped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth so hard that his jaw began to cramp.

Dedue could almost see the thoughts Ashe was having. He had seen it too many times in Dimitri. Kill, destroy, revenge. He had grown accustomed to it from Dimitri, but on Ashe, the expression looked wrong. Dedue knew the feeling well. Something in his core was breaking.

Ashe was different from Dedue, then. Something in both of them was horribly broken, but when Ashe couldn’t seal the fracture, rage slipped in, took him over. When it happened to Dedue, he couldn’t keep himself together, losing pieces of himself to the fog. Ashe was overwhelmed, and Dedue was lost.

“Ashe, stop,” Dedue kept his voice calm but stern, trying to catch Ashe’s attention. He wasn’t sure what Ashe would do like this and didn’t want to risk it. Ashe was shaking, not from the cold, but from the tenseness of his muscles.

Dedue wrapped a hand around the back of Ashe’s head, clamping down with his fingers just slightly, just enough to cause some pressure. Dedue turned Ashe’s head so that Ashe was forced to look him in the eyes. Dedue kept his gaze intense, piercing, trying to match the despairing rage Ashe felt stride for stride. “Stop it,” Dedue commanded. “Fight this feeling.”

“I want to fight,” Ashe gritted out, “I want to— I have to—"

Dedue thought that this was unusual. Usually, a touch was enough to snap him completely out of it. Another difference between them?

Dedue sighed and began to rub his thumb on the back of Ashe’s head, through his white locks. “So, this is what happens to you? You remind me a bit of His Highness, though he doesn’t bear our burden.”

“Really?”

Dedue hummed. “He’s very angry, too, but it doesn’t show. Anger is good, sometimes, but not when it controls you. I’m angry, too.” But Dedue thinks his anger is in control, at least. He’s had more practice at it, maybe. Or maybe it’s because he’s older, or he saw how it tore Dimitri apart.

Or maybe the side-effects are different for everyone.

Ashe took a few shallow, panting breaths before they began to deepen and slow. The sound was flickering embers dying after a fire, less dangerous, but still a threat until totally doused. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Dedue dropped the hand caressing Ashe’s head, bringing it to his lap.

“I suffer from strange effects, too. I sometimes find myself distant, like I’m watching life play out from across the room. I have hurt others, too. But the worst one… I forget things.”

.

Ashe looked at him. His eyes were hollow and blank, the bags under them pronounced.

“Forget things? Like…?”

“Important things. Things I should never forget. My home,” Dedue whispered, “It comes back, it always has. But still, for those moments, I’m not myself.” Silence fell over them again. Ashe gently laid his hand over Dedue’s, squeezing with far lighter pressure than before. The relief was instant, and from the way Dedue’s shoulders slumped, it seemed he felt the same.

“I want to help you too, Dedue. All you’ve done tonight is help me, and I’ve done nothing for you.”

Dedue couldn’t answer that.

The silence felt like a weight.

“I want to talk about this. About everything. But now that we’re here…” Ashe sighed. “Every day, I’m afraid I’m going to hurt someone or myself. I have to protect my siblings, but if the secret gets out…”

“I worry, too. My own sister and His Highness are the only ones to know. And now you.”

Ashe blinked at him. "You have a sister?”

“Yes, she...she's safe. Somewhere." Change the subject. Keep her safe. "I’ll tell you about her some other time,” Dedue said, stifling a yawn that was immediately passed to Ashe. “But for tonight, I should we should rest.”

Ashe squeezed his hand, “I’m sorry for my outburst. I could have hurt you.”

“You didn’t.”

Ashe didn’t sound reassured at all. “But I could have—"

“Did you want to hurt me?” Dedue challenged, raising a brow, his mouth drawn into a firm line.

“Not you. I was thinking of _them_ ,” he said. Dedue had an idea of who Ashe meant. The ones who had done this to them, or maybe the ones who had destroyed Duscur. “But if I got much worse than that, I’m not sure. I think… I think that it wouldn’t matter. I don’t think I’d realize or recognize who I hurt.” He dropped his eyes.

“I understand.” Dedue said. “Simply moving for the sake of moving, for fighting.”

“That’s not you at all, Dedue. You’re so kind, and caring, and generous, and—” Ashe stopped, blushing. Dedue looked at him.

“You too, Ashe. This isn’t you. These Crests aren’t us.”

\----

Ashe laid in bed that night, eyes on the wall he shared with Dedue.

Dedue did the same.

With only slight remorse, slight guilt, they both were glad. Glad that, whatever Goddess, whatever deity, whoever looked at the two of them and deemed this a fair fate, they had at least been brought together.

And maybe, Ashe wondered.

Just maybe, Dedue thought.

That together, they could wrench back the control that had been stolen from them.


End file.
